Gotta hand it to Cathy, the woman had tact. I hesitated and looked at my untouched coffee. “Well, I don't know what the houses are worth. And I know nothing about cars, much less vintage ones. But still, the building in Manhattan alone must be worth a lot, and the estate in San Francisco...”
Cathy's eyes got big, but to her credit, she resisted flat out asking what I got...for about thirty seconds. “Do you mind me asking how much your grandfather left you?”
I looked at her wide-eyed. “Well, I don't really want to say the exact amount, but after all of the taxes and everything, I'm going to get close to a million dollars.”
I know I said I didn't want to say a million, but I was on a roll and it just came out. Cathy's face was priceless. Her mouth dropped open and she stared at me in amazement. She was about to speak when I heard the front door chime as someone entered the office.
I looked at her in terror and whispered, “Don't tell anyone, okay Cathy? You promised, remember?”
She nodded and smiled at me. I could only assume she was trying to decide who to share the big news with first. My money was on Slick. I knew she had a little thing for him. “Don't you worry, I won't tell a soul.” She stood up and headed for the front of the office. She turned and said, “You just take it easy today, okay? Remember that your grandpa loved you.”
As she left the room I thought I heard her mumble, “obviously” but I couldn't be certain. Once I was alone, I stood up, poured myself a fresh cup of coffee and sauntered toward my desk. I think it was the most I'd ever accomplished in the first fifteen minutes of work.
Let the games begin...
Chapter 5
Mondays were usually busy, and this one was no exception. The entire office was buzzing-well, whispering. I sat behind my desk, returning emails, receiving faxes, answering the phones, and ignoring the blatant stares. About ten minutes after Cathy and I finished our heart to heart, Slick walked by my desk. I was looking at a new listing, and pretended not to notice his stare as he passed by.
This was harder than I thought it would be. I was really struggling not to grin. Determined to play the part to perfection, I kept my face placid. I knew that ignoring the curious looks played into my story. I kept my head down as though at any moment the grief might wash over me.
Slick must have been keeping tabs on me, because as soon as I returned from lunch-I eat in my car, where I can listen to the radio and not be judged for the mayonnaise on my sandwich and calories in my soda-and sat down behind my desk, he appeared from nowhere.
Leaning over my desk-and invading my personal space-he looked at me with sympathy. I met his eyes and waited for him to speak. I knew he wasn't here to bark a new order at me. He had “sell it” face on. He looked into my eyes for a few seconds, which wasn't entirely unpleasant. Weasel that he was, he was also incredibly good looking, as you'd expect from someone so successful in this business. His brown eyes looked warm for the first time as he let out a deep breath and whispered, “I just wanted to see if there was anything I could do for you. I heard about...” He shook his head at the tragedy of it all. “What happened.”
I shrugged and gave him a weak smile. “It's so sweet of you to check on me.” I sighed and touched his hand. Come on, can you blame me? I might as well take full advantage of the situation.
Surprised at my gesture, he looked down at my hand. Recovering quickly, he gave it an encouraging squeeze, then met my eyes again. “I feel for you. Believe me, I've been there.” He paused and looked down as though he was struggling to remain composed before continuing, “I lost my grandfather almost three years ago. I still miss him.”
I gave him my best sympathetic, “Awwww”, then told him I'd be okay once a little time had passed. He finally peeled himself off my desk, but not before reminding me that he'd do anything to help. As I watched the back of his tailored suit disappear down the hallway, I wondered if his dead grandfather was as imaginary as mine.
The last couple hours of my workday passed with little incident. I did manage to corner Cathy in one of the conference rooms. I asked her why she told everyone about my grandfather. How could she take my tragedy and turn it into mere entertainment? Who would do something like that?
You know, besides me.
She apologized and told me that she had just been so upset that she had to tell someone. Such a sensitive soul, to be heartbroken over my grandfather's death. She must have a heart of gold. Or more likely, a mute conscience.
I wasn't surprised by her excuse. I knew she'd been confronted about spilling secrets more times than I could count. She had mastered the art of spin. Little did she know, that was the exact reason I picked her. After she apologized, I told her I understood. Then I thanked her for being there for me, and being a real friend. I know, I have a serious knack for this.
By the end of the day I was tired of acting depressed. In reality, I'd had one of the best days of work since I'd started there over a year ago. I knew the hardest part was over. I'd still have to act a little sad, but I would slowly edge that off, and get into the fun part; watching these hyenas fight to the death over me.
* * *
Tuesday morning I arrived at work looking a little better. I had my kinky hair up in a ponytail again, mainly because it was really nice to skip the hairdo ritual. Back in high school, my hair was my favorite feature. I'd pretend to be jealous of my friends' straight hair, but secretly I loved watching them struggle with home perms, just to get hair like mine. Oh, how the tables had turned. Now the women with straight hair have it made and it's my turn to suffer.
So, my hair was still a mess, but I had managed to iron and correctly button my clothes. It was quiet all day, which was typical for a Tuesday, but it also worked great with my “situation”. I smiled a little bit, which I have to say is not typical. I couldn't believe all the friendly nods and how-are-you-this-morning?'s I got from everyone who crossed my path. Did these people really think I was an idiot, or were they just hoping I would forget what they were really like? Did they really think I believed their sympathetic, caring act? Like I couldn't figure out that it was the mystery windfall that had them all being so sweet?
My phone rang around ten. It was Kami, she wanted to meet for lunch.
“I can't meet you for lunch. The restaurants will be packed. There's no way we'll be out of there in an hour.”
“I thought you were going to play this little act of yours all the way? Estelle, you just lost a loved one. We'll have a nice lunch, and before you go back in, put in a few eye drops for that teary look. No one will say a thing.”
“Wow Kami.” I lowered my voice to a whisper, “Should I be worried that you're so good at lying?”
She laughed. “Shut up. I just figure that if you're going to benefit from this deal, so should I. My mom's watching LBJ, so I'm free. This offer is only good until noon.”
“You've got yourself a deal, lady. Want to meet at that seafood place on the corner?”
“Oooh, yeah. Seafood sounds so good. See you at noon.”
* * *
I returned from my hour lunch after an hour and a half. I walked into the office, fearing a public reprimand about my tardiness. People milled about, but no one even looked up at me. I guess Kami had been right.
I noticed the flowers immediately. Sitting on my desk was a tall crystal vase filled with two dozen yellow roses. I shook my head as I searched for the card among the stems. Flowers were not out of the ordinary, clients would often send a bouquet as a thank you to their agent. I always thought it was an insane gesture. To me, if anyone should be sending the flowers, it should be the agent, with a card that read, “thanks for the gigantic commission.”
Pulling the card from the center of the flowers, I was shocked to see my name on the little envelope.
I looked around self-consciously. Who on earth would send me flowers? I wasn't dating anyone, and it wasn't my birthday again, thank goodness. God knows that came around often enough as it was. The it hit me: Kami.
<
br /> I sat down in my chair, marveling at her genius. And she says I'm the sneaky one. It was such a good idea, of course I would be getting sympathy flowers after a death in the family. I eyed the gorgeous blooms. They must have cost a fortune. I was going to have to pay her back for them.
I opened the card, prepared to read her pretend wishes, and was shocked by what I saw. On the tiny card, written in sloppy florist handwriting was this note:
Estelle,
Yellow roses signify friendship,
and that's what I'm hoping to have with you.
I know you're going through a hard time,
and I wanted to brighten your day.
Please know that if you want to talk, I'm here.
Mick.
I leaned back in my chair, completely stunned. Slick sent me the flowers? Again I looked up at the bouquet, now even more impressed by them. It had been a long time since I'd gotten flowers, especially beautiful ones like these. I smiled as I thought of Slick, ordering these, trying to butter me up. Funny, most men sent flowers to get into a woman's pants. But these flowers were to get into my purse.
Regardless of his real motives, I had to play this right. I channeled my grieving granddaughter emotions. Slick would expect me to be touched, comforted, flattered. I could do that.
I was about to go find him and thank him, but I wasn't sure if that was the right move. Should I thank him, or wait for him to approach me? I felt awkward suddenly, like...like we had just been on a date and I was trying to decide if it was too early to call. Call...
I picked up my phone and dialed his extension. He picked up on the first ring, “You've got Mick.”
I giggled. Why the hell did I giggle? “Mick, hi it's Estelle. I just wanted to thank you for the gorgeous flowers. I can't believe you did that. They're...they're incredible, thank you.”
“Estelle, you are very welcome. I'm glad you liked them. I've just been thinking about you all morning, even with your loss, you've shown up and worked hard. Most people don't have that kind of strength. I thought you deserved something beautiful to look at.”
I smiled. I had no idea why I was smiling, we were on the phone, he couldn't see me. And I felt jittery...excited. Oh good God, was I getting a crush on Mick? I mean Slick? This was bad, even in my head I was starting to refer to him by his real name.
What was the matter with me? Admittedly, he was saying some very nice things, but they weren't what he really thought. A little flattery wasn't reason enough to suddenly forget this man's true colors, was it? No.
You will not forget who you're dealing with here. This man will do anything for a sale.
I wiped the smile off my face and sat up straight in my chair. My voice back to it's normal tone I said, “I don't want to keep you away from your many clients. I just wanted to say thank you.”
“You're very welcome, Estelle. I'm glad I could make you smile.”
I was shutting down my computer at the end of the day when I felt a tap on my shoulder. I turned around to see Slick grinning at me. Out of reflex I looked behind me. I still wasn't used to him smiling at me. “What?” I asked, in a tone that was less friendly than I'd planned.
Slick picked up on my brusqueness and his smile dropped. “I didn't mean to bother you. Are you in a rush to leave?”
I was in a rush to get home to my couch and my Netflix, but I wasn't going to tell him that. “No, not at all, I was just surprised to see you. I thought you'd left a while ago.”
He shook his head. “Nope. I thought I might have an early night, but I got a call a few minutes ago. A new client, she wants to see some homes tomorrow, so I'm off to preview some listings tonight.”
His expression made me think he was about to ask me for a favor. “Let me guess, you need me to pull up some listings for you?” I took my bag off my shoulder and started to turn my computer back on.
He reached out and took my arm before I reached the power button. “No, of course not. I wouldn't ask you to do that now, when you're almost off work.” I raised an eyebrow at him. Possibly he'd lost his short term memory, since he'd had me pull last minute listings twice the week before. He caught my expression and chuckled. “Okay, so maybe I have asked you to do that before, but I wouldn't think of doing that now.” He softened his voice, “Not with everything you've been through lately.”
Standing up straight, he clapped his hands together, his voice full of enthusiasm, “Now, back to what I wanted to ask you...I thought you might want to take a spin with me and check out some houses?”
He looked unsure of my answer. Of course he hardly knew me, so he had no idea how much I loved looking at houses, but there was no comparison; looking at houses kicked Netflix's ass.
He obviously mistook my stunned silence for hesitation because he quickly added, “Don't think I'm just going to use you just for a second opinion, of course. I thought after we checked a few of them out I could treat you to dinner? Any place you like.” He looked so hopeful. “Interested?”
Ding ding ding, we have a winner! “Um, sure. Sounds like fun. Plus, I think getting out would be good for me...help to take my mind off things.”
“Great. Do you live nearby?”
“Pretty close, why?”
“I thought we could go drop your car off, then when we're done I can just drop you at home. I don't like the idea of bringing you back to a dark parking lot to get your car.”
I hated to admit it, but I was starting to have those feelings again. Those feelings that made me want to call him Mick. Could it be possible that I'd read him wrong all this time? Even if he was only trying to get me to buy a house, would he be this considerate? I decided it didn't matter. Either way, I was still up for a night out with an attractive man. I figured that even if he was a jerk deep down, he was pretending to be a great guy. So, I chose to look at it as a night out with a great guy. I'll take it.
I dropped my car off and slid into the black leather seat of his Mercedes. I noticed as I pulled my feet in, the letters AMG on a gleaming stainless steel casing in the opening of the door. I wondered how he kept the steel so clean on the floorboards. I looked over at him with raised eyebrows. “AMG? What's that?”
I could see he was thrilled to have the opportunity to brag about his car. “Oh, this is a Mercedes S 65 AMG. I love this car.”
I could see why. It was beautiful. I didn't want to imagine what he shelled out for it. “Well, I'm sure it impresses the ladies.”
He shrugged as he pulled out into traffic. “I won't deny that. That's not why I bought it though. I've always dreamed of owning a Mercedes, so when I was finally able to afford it, I got all the bells and whistles.”
I jumped, then glared at him as he burst out laughing. “You weren't kidding! Heated seats?”
He nodded. “Yep. I told you, I spared no expense.”
I shook my head, amazed. “Well Mick, if you ever decide you need to trade up to something a little fancier, I'll take this baby off your hands.”
He laughed again. “I'll keep that in mind. Alright, are you ready to check out the first place?”
I nodded as I relaxed into the magical warming seat. “I'm ready. But I wouldn't mind if it takes us a while to get there.”
“It wont take us long.” Slick laughed, “I didn't buy this model just for the seats, I bought it for the power.”
I felt myself be pushed back into the seat as he punched the accelerator.
We walked up the wide front steps of the first home on the list. I was in awe as I looked up at the Mediterranean home. The massive double doors opened into a marble tiled palace. It was an open floor plan, and to the left was the chef's kitchen. I walked in and ran my hand over the stunning granite counters and admired the custom cherry cabinets.
After viewing the kitchen we went up the staircase, complete with wrought iron banisters, to the master suite. It was something out of a designer magazine, with it's tray ceiling and ebony hardwood floors. The bathroom was done in the same gleaming, cream marble tha
t covered the entry way. I looked from the over-sized jacuzzi tub to the enormous steam shower, with it's thousands of adjustable heads and started to feel a little faint.
Slick brought me out of my trance, “I can see that you're in heaven here, but there's a lot more of this house to see.”
I shook my head and noticed the two separate walk-in closets, both looking like you could park a car in them. “Who cares about the rest of the place? Why would anyone ever leave this room? It's perfect.” I whispered as I looked over at Slick, “How much is this place listed for anyway?”
He let out a long, low whistle. “It ain't cheap, baby.” And don't think I didn't notice that he called me baby. He ran his hand over the wide door casing. “This place is listed at just over seven hundred thousand.” He grinned when he heard me gasp, and elaborated, “Bear in mind though, it's almost four thousand square feet, four bedroom, four bath. Plus you've got the finished basement, three car garage, pool and spa. Besides, we do live in California, and this is the life people want to live.”
“Yeah, but you're still talking about close to a million dollars for a pile of bricks.”
He winced and grabbed his chest. “Ouch. Pile of bricks? Aren't you the woman who just said this room was perfect?”
I shrugged. “Well, yeah. But still, I didn't know Mr. and Mrs. Moneybags were clients of yours.”
He shook his head. “It's not Mrs. Moneybags, it's Ms. Bennett. She and her boyfriend are looking for a place. She gave me their wish list and budget, so either she or the boyfriend must be doing okay.”
I grunted. “This is way better than okay. Are they the modern Brady Bunch?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, do they have a ton of kids?”
He shook his head. “Nope. No kids, just the two of them.”
“Wow. All this for two people?”
“I guess so. Come on, let's finish looking around.”
After we'd looked through the entire house Mick led the way back down the hall, switching the lights off as we went. We ended up back in the marble entryway, barely illuminated by the porch light shining through the glass doors. It was so quiet and cozy, for a moment it felt like a date. It felt like the perfect moment for a kiss.
The Millionaire Myth Page 2